Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
And guests at the palace were growing in number. Those personages of import in Firenze were arriving to attend the marriage ceremony of the king, something which would happen tomorrow, early evening. They would also present their wedding gifts to their king (and me, their future queen) tomorrow morning.
Indeed, we were to dine with some of them that night.
Which I hoped meant Mars would not be in meetings. Something like that would be much easier to do at his side.
There was a boy there, though he was bent over, tying the strap on his sandal, so he did not see me shadow myself.
I glanced to the other end of the hall and saw no servant.
I heaved a sigh of relief but choked on it when Carrington carried on, “If Cassius is allowed to usurp his father’s throne, do not think, my king, that True won’t get the same ideas.”
Cassius usurped Gallienus’s throne?
When did that happen?
How did that happen?
I kept my gaze on the servant as he straightened, pleased to see he was looking down the corridor, but it was clear he didn’t see me.
My shadow was not faulty as it had been last night.
Perhaps it was my agitation at getting caught in Mars’s rooms that had led to it abandoning me.
“Our prince has already promised the use of your armies in this lunacy Cassius is instigating,” Carrington went on.
Lunacy?
What lunacy could Cassius possibly be instigating?
He did not seem a “lunacy” type of fellow.
“And he did this without your consent. Without even discussing it with you. And that is treason,” Carrington finished.
“It’s hardly treason,” I heard Aunt Mercy murmur. “Perhaps misguided as he was swept up in the discourse. But not treason.”
“I think promising your king’s armies to another country to get involved in what is guaranteed to be a civil war is something quite a bit of a departure from simply misguided,” Carrington spat.
“Mind your tongue to my wife,” Uncle Wilmer ordered in a sharp voice I’d never heard him use.
But in defense of his wife, I liked it.
Or, actually, I liked him demonstrating he had any backbone at all.
“I’m afraid I’m not myself, Your Grace, such is my state of concern about what is happening,” Carrington retorted acidly.
There was a brief moment of silence before Uncle Wilmer returned on what sounded like a sigh, “I’ll have a word with True.”
“How will that be? They’re drawing up the proclamations now and you’ve already agreed to sign them,” Carrington rejoined.
“Perhaps this civil war won’t come about,” Wilmer suggested.
I heard Carrington’s scoffing chuff of expelled air.
“Do you think for one second that the gentry of Airen will stand for their new regent demanding they disband their militias? Not to mention the males of that nation will surely have something to say about giving women right to own property. Eradicating limits on their education and professions. Setting minimal remuneration for their labor at amounts much higher than what they’re currently receiving. And worst of all, offering them the privilege of assembly,” Carrington remarked with disgust.
Cassius intended to do all of that?
And he’d assumed rule, become regent, in order to do it?
Oh my…faith.
“My husband has kept neutral on these gender issues in the past, Carrington, but we’ve always been allied with Airen,” Aunt Mercy noted. “Our people will find it no surprise we’ve tendered our support for the wishes of their sovereigns.”
“We have indeed. Neutral to Gallienus’s rule,” Carrington rejoined. “To that end, any time one of their females entered our lands for refuge and they demand her return, we grant it. In other words, this is not neutral. This is an about face.”
“And there are many in Wodell who do not like that this is the king’s policy,” Aunt Mercy returned, emphasizing the word “king’s” in a manner that stated it wasn’t the king’s policy at all.
And I knew this to be accurate. True had told me. Returning refugee women to Airen was a thorny subject between my country’s king and his son. True without fail advised his father to grant asylum. Carrington advised it would not be good to anger King Gallienus or the members of his gentry who had command of standing armies.
“Enough they’re willing to allow their sons to die for it?” Carrington fired back.
“I do not know,” Mercy retorted. “Though it would be my son in service to his realm and his king who leads the king’s armies and knows the minds of the king’s men, and I would wonder which they would prefer. Riding in aid of a new ruler making just changes in his realm or riding to a folly in order to increase their king’s chest.”
“Mercy,” Uncle Wilmer muttered warningly.
“I am sorry, my husband,” she declared like she was not. “But I will not sit silent and allow anyone to call my son a traitor.”
“Your king’s chest is also yours, my queen, and it grows low,” Carrington spoke as if my aunt had not.